Bad Dream
by mishy-mo
Summary: Episode TAG for Dalek. The Doctor has a bad dream which makes him wonder if Rose is safe. First Doctor Who Fic, nineRose mainly frindship. Enjoy! Please R


His head thumped heavily and loudly on the metal grating of the TARDIS floor, but the noise failed to awaken either Rose or Adam who where deep within the belly of the ship and the pain failed to bring him round from the sudden sleep that overcame him.

His screwdriver clicked off and landed beside his prone body as he lost consciousness beneath the main console and the heart of the TARDIS.

He fought it, he fought it all the way, but in the end his spend strength only made it easier for a restless sleep to overcome him.

He worried that his regular nightmare would run riot through his mind and have his hearts thumping a wild harsh rhythm in his chest.

But a much fresher adventure was to become the subject of his nightmares. And instead of an entire species it was just on Dalek that would have him running a cold sweat.

He returned to the corridors of Van Staten's museum.

He seemed to walk those long bland halls for hours before, not so unexpectedly, he came to a door.

It was thick and hard like a block of concrete had suddenly fallen through the ceiling and yet despite its thickness and apparent incomparability it became transparent and he watched a scene unfold before him as if a dream within a dream.

He could see Rose. She stood scared and looked close enough to touch and console and yet he couldn't reach out. He watched as she muttered soft words into her mobile before she stopped and turned away from him.

He could not see the distant figure but he knew what it was.

Ominously, but still shrouded in obscurity it drew forward.

"Doctor!" He heard Rose cry.

His hearts beat fast as he pounded his fists on the transparent block, but he could not reach her.

"Leave her!" he shouted helplessly. "Leave her and just DIE!"

He could hear its voice in his head; ringing, echoing and never stopping.

"You would make a good Dalek."

"DIE." He shouted closing his eyes as the scene dissolved around him.

When he eventually opened them, everything had changed.

The door was open and the path to Rose was clear.

She turned in his direction but her face was still filled with fear.

"Doctor!" she cried once again.

But despite her cries he could not speak, he couldn't offer words of reassurance and calm, nor could he even offer his usual cocky grin. He was stuck fast and couldn't move at all.

It was then that he looked behind Rose to see the shadowy figure grow larger and more defined.

Horror stuck him as he was faced with an emotionless apparition of himself drawing closer to Rose.

The face showed no emotion and the eyes were dead, it didn't not reach for Rose to comfort her in anyway nor take her hand and draw her away from danger, he just stood there.

Rose was completely unaware of the figure that stood behind her, only aware of him.

"Doctor?" she said more questioningly, but still there was a fear in her eyes, "What the hell are you changing into?"

As soon as she said those words he was aware on and inexplicable cold that seeped through him, following that was unimaginable pain that covered his entire body. He reeled tossing his head back in agony and let lose a gut wrenching cry.

And despite the pain, the confusion he was aware that his voice was not his own; but metallic, computerised and inorganic.

The pain stopped suddenly and he looked back in the direction of Rose, the figure of himself still silent behind her.

He was aware that his vision was distorted and yet more clear than it was before.

He glided forward through no decision of his own.

And he cried again in a voice not his own, "Exterminate."

'No! No!' he shouted but his words were not voiced, only sounding in his mind.

He watched as the figure of himself did nothing to try and save Rose, just stood there and watched as the main weapon powered up and prepared to fire.

'No, Save her!' the voice in his head shouted one final time before the entire scene disappeared in a flash of light.

He sat up so fast that his forehead would bear a circuit board shaped bruise for two days.

"Ah," he said bring on hand to his head while propping himself on the other's arms elbow.

His hands and forehead felt cold and clammy reminding him of his dream, his nightmare.

"I need a cup of tea."

Later with a cooling mug between his long nimble fingers, his brow was furrowed deep as he thought over the dream.

To be honest he was a little confused. He was used to reliving all sorts of past horrors when sleep overcame him but it was not all that often that real events changed.

He was not for trying to understand what little dreams he had either, but there was something about this that niggled and shouted that there was something in his subconscious that wanted answered.

And as he fiddled with the mug handle, a thought suddenly stuck him.

He was afraid. Not of the Dalek, or of the many other evils of the universe but that he would be the reason for Rose Tyler's death. This incredible human, had in a very short time wriggled her way into his broken heart. Her presence on these most recent travels had changed him. Before he felt alone and that he was just continuing with travels because he didn't know any different, it was the only life he had known. But with Rose at his side he felt alive again, he felt he had purpose. She had shown him the good that he was fighting for and the good that lived in him.

But the idea that he could be the reason of her demise troubled him. Even if it wasn't death, what if something happened to her that he couldn't fix? What if something happened to him?

What if it was his very hatred for the Daleks that brought about their destruction?

This thought seemed to strike a chord; he remembered seeing the deathly apparition of himself standing beside Rose.

He shivered remembering the scene.

But that was it. The explanation for the dream.

He was scared that in his hatred for his enemies he would choose to sacrifice himself and Rose.

That just wouldn't do.

Himself, he could just about live with but Rose? She was innocent, perfect and a reason for living. And there was no way he could justify it.

And leaving the now cold mug of tea untouched he went to the engine room and drew up an emergency program.

He was soon finished, and slipping the screwdriver with its new mechanism safely in his jacket pocket, he followed his feet into the belly of the TARDIS.

He soon found his way to Rose's bedroom door.

It opened before he even decided to go in.

"Doctor." Rose whispered a little worried and a little surprised.

"Rose." He replied softly, glad just to see her safe.

He stepped forward and held her desperately in his arms. "I'm sorry." He said quietly. She didn't know what he was apologising for, but she knew he wouldn't have said it unless he needed to. She responded only by wrapping her arms around him and holding him close, returning his embrace.

Their time together had been relatively short, but it had been intense. This was the closest they had been since he first grabbed her hand but it felt right.

"What's wrong?" she asked soothingly.

He pulled back slightly from their embrace so he could look her in the eye.

"I had a bad dream."

He was surprised how easy it was to be honest with her, so was she.

"It's okay, it's over now." And she held him close once again. They stood there for several minutes, drawing strength from one another. Neither feeling awkward or urged to move.

A few minutes later still, Rose mumbled something unintelligible into his jumper.

"What was that?" he asked with a smile pulling back once again.

"How about a cup of tea?" she replied with he own smile.

"It's funny you mentioned that, I tried to make one earlier."

They moved silently through the corridors hand in hand in the direction of the kitchen.

All the while the Doctor wondered what all this meant.

He had never felt this protective towards any of his other companions. Nor can he remember it feeling as natural or right to hold them close after a particularly challenging adventure.

Was it because she was younger?

He doubted it.

Did she mean more to him than the others?

The obvious answer was yes, but by how much.

The last question fell away as they reached the kitchen and worked together to get the tea ready and talked of mindless things that brought a smile to their faces.

But no matter what he was happy.

Happy that she would be safe from the evils they may encounter, but more importantly should the worst happen, from him.


End file.
